


What is and What Should Never Be

by AngelBaby76



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring John Winchester, Djinnverse (Supernatural), Drunk Dean, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3649383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelBaby76/pseuds/AngelBaby76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many times a day does the average human make a wish? We wish on a falling star, make a wish and blow out candles, or even make a wish as we blow an eyelash off our fingers. We never give it a second thought about this hopeful dream. But for Dean, his is about to come true. While in this fantasy world, Dean meets a beautiful young woman and finds himself falling for her. But is she just a figment of his imagination or is she someone that needs his help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Characters

**Lana Lambert:**

Waitress at Mac's Diner who lost her mother at a very young age. Shortly after Lana moves in with her grandmother, she looses her to cancer. Several times a day she wishes her life was different and that wish is about to come true.

 

**Dean Winchester:**

After a waitress goes missing, Dean tracks her down and has a run in with a terrifying Djinn which transports him to a fantasy world, one where he forgets what's reality and what is just a dream.

 

**Sam Winchester:**

After Dean disappears after looking for Lana, Sam dives deep into lore, with the help of Bobby, to find his brother before time runs out for both him and Lana

 


	2. What's Your Sign, Honey Pie?

A pair of jade green eyes watched the girl as she moved from table to table, filling coffees, taking plates back to the kitchen and just chatting with the clientèle. The way she moved dancer-like, smooth and graceful. As he sipped his coffee, he wondered, for just a brief second, if she was like that in bed.

She had a very beautiful smile, dark hair that was pulled back into a low pony tail, the ends grazed her collarbone. The pink apron she had on, highlighted a petite frame. He let out a sigh and returned to the papers that were strewn about the table.

“So, _Green Eyes_ , can I get you anything besides coffee?”

Dean Winchester looked up from the papers to see her standing near the table, her hand on her small hip and a pot of coffee in her left. He slid her a lust filled smile, one that made all the ladies swoon. Dean knew he was a handsome fellow and it didn't take much to get them in bed. “Well..that depends..uh..” His eyes moved from her face down to the tag that was pinned to her black shirt and took a moment to admire the swell of breasts. “What time you get off, Lana.?” He held up his empty cup so she could fill it.

She chuckled and took the mug and poured the coffee. “I work a double shift. Don't get off until tonight.”

“Well,” He winked at her, “Seems I'll be here one more night here.”

 

“Interesting.” Lana slid out the pad from the pocket of her apron and the pen from behind her ear. “So, can I get you some food?”

Dean shook his head and chuckled. “Two eggs, over easy, hash browns and toast.”

  
Lana winked at him and slid the pen back behind her ear. She leaned forward a bit and whispered. “I get off at eight.”

“See you then.” Dean smiled at her as she turned from his table and walked to the counter to put in his order. He shook his head as he watched her hips swing back and forth and let out a low whistle. “Hot damn.”

 

* * *

 

The clock seem to tease her, the second hand moved way to slow as it made its rotation around the face. Her chin was braced with her palms, her elbows supported them on the counter and she let out a bored sigh. Not a single customer was in the restaurant, but she learned a long time ago to never breathe a word about that. Because once she did, a flood of people would come.

One more hour and she was out of this dump and one that date with that hot guy from early that morning. She had noticed him the moment he had strolled in, an air of confidence about him. He was cocky and smart mouthed but seemed to have a kind smile towards her.

“Lana!”

She jumped and sat up too quickly, almost crying out in pain when her teeth bit down on her tongue as her elbow hit the counter. She turned around to see an older woman with an plump waistline staring at her. “Yeah?”

“Lord child,” Doris Adams clucked her tongue as she sat some napkins and silverware on the bar. “I was calling you for like a minute. Nice day dream?”

Lana felt her cheeks burn as she grabbed some napkins and began rolling the silverware in them, a mundane taks, but something that would get her eyes off of _Freckles._ “Sorry Doris.”

“I worry about you child,” Doris looked over the rim of her glasses at the young girl, “ You spend all your time working. I know it's hard going back to that empty house.”

  
Lana glanced a look at Doris, a smile on her face. “Well, it just so happens that I have a date here in an hour.”

“With who?” Doris stopped folding the napkins to stare in disbelief at Lana. She had known the young girl for a year and not once had she gone on a single date.

“Remember that man that man that came in this morning? Dark hair? Leather jacket, dreamy green eyes,” Lana finished with a sigh.

“Seems you got the bug,” Doris chuckled. She grabbed the napkin from Lana's hand. “I need some eggs from the fridge out back. Can you please be a dear and go get some?”

Lana let out a sigh and wiped her hands on her apron and walked through the kitchen to where the walk in fridge was located in the back. She grabbed hold of the silver hand and paused as she heard a noise behind her. She turned her head, her eyes moving back and forth along the small room. Satisfied that it was just her imagination, she turned to the fridge.

Her hands smoothed along the wall as she tried to find the switch and in one heart stopping moment, she was certain something was in there with you. Images of a some kind of monster flashed in her head as she desperately tried to find the switch. In a loud buzz, the lights finally snapped on and she let out a breath as she realized it was just her mind working over board. She chuckled to herself as she stepped inside and walked over to where the carton of eggs were located.

She had her hand on the carton, when a strong entered her nose and she gagged. She put the back of her hand to her nose and scowled. She coughed as the smell of rotten eggs burned her nose. She poked her head out of the fridge.

“Hey Doris! I think these eggs are bad!”

When she turned back to the eggs, her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out.

Standing where there was once nothing, was a man with a bald head. Strange looking tattoos covered his entire body and a smile was on his face as he stared at her. When he came to her, his eyes bean to glow an eerily shade of blue. When he lifted his hand, the tattoo on his palm, glowed the same color. Lana let out a scream as her back hit the wall and the hand slowly came to her forehead.

 

A smile was on his face as the _Impala_ sped down the black highway, his fingers drumming to the classic rock tune that was blasting from the stero and he was in a good mood. It had been a long time since Dean felt so carefree and alive, but he had to thank a certain little waitress for that. Now, he just had to wait a few more hours. It was a shame it was only going to be for one night.

The cell phone that was in the passenger seat began to ring and Dean took his eyes off the road to see _Sammy_ written across the screen. He let out a sigh, knowing his date was just about to be cancelled.

He swiped it off the leather seat and with one hand on the wheel, he flipped it open with the other and put it to his ear as he corrected the car. “Yeah?”

“Where you at?”

“Just a few miles from the motel,” Dean leaned forward and turned the dial and shut the music off. “What's up Sammy?”

“Bobby called...”

“Uh..huh..no way Sam,” Dean grumbled. Every damn time he wanted a little rest and relaxation, Bobby called. It was like that old codger had ESP or something. “It's my night off.”

“Two women have gone missing,” Sam continued as if Dean didn't even answer him. “We have to head out to Illinois.”

“Son of a bitch.” Dean slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “Be packed and ready. I'll be there in five.” He slammed the phone shut with his hand and tossed it on the seat. He flipped the music back on and sighed. God how he was starting to hate this job.

 

 

 


	3. Mac's Diner

Dean balanced the sack in his hands as he opened the motel door to see Sam walking around the motel room. Two large army bags lay on the floor and Dean could see that his brother was on the phone.

“OK..yeah..” Sam turned when he noticed Dean had walked into the motel room and shut the door with his boot. “Yeah..he just got here. OK, we'll check it out.” Sam hung up the phone and tossed it near the bag on the bed.

“What's up dude?” Dean threw a greasy sack of take out food at him, not carrying if he caught it or not.

“Damn Dean, what the hell is your deal?” Sam yelped as the sack hit him in the chest and fell to the orange shag carpet, fries tumbling out and onto the questionable floor. There was no way Sam was going to eat that now. Not telling how long this room had been cleaned. From the unmentionable stains all around the carpet, Sam guessed when they first built this flea bag decades ago. “Bobby just called. Seems we have a case more local than Illinois.”

Dean sighed and flopped face first onto the bed. “I just need some sleep.”

“A murder at a local diner and a girl is missing. Mac's Diner, just outside of town.”

Dean raised his head to look at his brother as he walked to the closet and took out a black suit. “What?”

Sam turned to see Dean with a weird look on his face. “Yeah, I guess the night cook came in to see a woman dead on the floor and the waitress was missing.”

“So, this is our case because?”

“Yellow powder in the walk in fridge and the older woman's eyes were burned..hey!” Sam was pushed back as Dean barged to the closet and yanked a suit so hard off the rack, it brought the whole rod crashing to the floor. “What the hell is with you?” Sam was puzzled as the bathroom door was slammed making the small windows shake.

 

 

 

 

 

“So, uh, wanna tell me what's up your ass?” Sam slid out of the passenger seat of the _Impala_ and shut it with a loud thud. He knew his brother and that something was bothering him. He seemed moodier than usual, if that was possible. This job was taking a toll on the both of them and Dean seemed to be taking it harder. Since the death of their father, Dean seemed to have clammed up and no matter how hard Sam tried, he couldn't get his brother to open up to him.

Dean shut the drivers side door and joined Sam on the curb. He looked at the neon sign that flashed _Mac's Diner_ in red. Just a few hours ago, he had been sitting at that corner booth over by the window and enjoying the view. “Let's just get this over with, huh? Then I'll promise, we'll put on a slow song and dance it out.”

  
“Jerk.” Sam grumbled as he reached into the inner lining of his jacket and extracted a black leather billfold.

“Bitch.”

Taped around the door and two trash cans, hung yellow police tape with _Crime Scene Do Not Cross_ written in black. Several officers were moving in and out of the diner and one was standing guard just behind the tape.  
He extended his hand as he noticed Sam and Dean approach him. He put a hand on his holster and the other one halted them. “Hold it right there...this is a crime scene.”

Dean glanced at Sam and they both flipped open their billfold, showing the FBI badges. “Agent White..this here is my partner Agent Sims.” Dean nodded his head towards Sam as he tucked it back into his jacket.

The officer was young, Dean assumed fresh out of boot camp. He had the look of uncertainty about him. _Like shooting fish in a barrel._ “What are feds doing here? This is a murder scene.”

“Well,” Sam glanced at Dean who's attention was on the diner. “There have been a few like this and just want to cover some bases. Make sure this is not linked to the other murders.”

The cop looked at them for a long while, trying to decide if what they were telling him was true or not. They were awfully young to be feds and the giant of a man's hair was a little long for regulation. But the badges did look legit. “CSI is photographing evidence. Body is near the kitchen.” The young officer, who's badge read _Jones_ , paused as he swallowed the bile that stuck his throat. “Meat wagon is due here in an hour, so you have until then. The cook is being questioned by the police and are wrapping that up, so you can have your turn soon.”

Dean bent under the tape and pushed open the glass door, the bell above his head made a jingle and he dodged a few cops as they walked outside.

He looked over to see the cook was sitting at one of the booths talking to a cop, his eyes bloodshot.

“Dean.”

Dean turned to see that Sam was over by the bar and he could see a pair of plump legs that ended in a pair of gray sensible shoes. He almost let out a sigh of relief to know this wasn't Lana. He stepped around the bar to see Sam kneeling at the head of a woman with gray hair. The woman's throat had been slashed and the blood was pooled around her head. That's when he noticed the yellowish substance.

Dean dipped his finger into the fine powder and brought it to his nose and instantly pulled it back. “Sulfur.”

“There's more of that in the fridge. Any idea what it is?”

Sam looked up to see a cop with his hand resting on his badge, his huge belly strained against his waistband, threatening to send a button flying across the room.“Uh..no idea...so..what did the witness say.”

The cop sniffed and stared Dean and Sam down. 'And you would be?”

Dean brushed the sulfur off his hands and extended his hand. “Agent White..and this my partner, Agent Sims..”

The cop looked at Dean's hand that was smeared with the yellow powder and gingerly took it and then proceeded to wipe his hands on his black pants. “Well..uh..witness states that he was in the back cooking when he heard a scream coming from the fridge. So he runs back there and see the waitress, I think her name was...” He took out the small notebook that had been stuffed in his lapel pocket of his uniform shirt. “Lana...up against the wall and this bald guy attacking her.”

Sam noticed that Dean's mouth had twitched at the mention of the waitress. “Did he happen to say what this man looked like.”

“Here's the funny thing,” The cop sniffed and leaned forward. “Says the guy was tall, bald and had these weird tattoos all over his body. And he's eyes glowed this blue color.” He stopped and chuckled. “Sounds like he was smoking the wacky tobacky if you ask me.”

“Thank you officer.” Sam followed Dean out to the car and looked at him over the top. “Got any ideas?”

“Not a single damn one. Looks like we have a call to make to Bobby and see what the hell this thing is. Obviously demon from the sulfur.”

Sam nodded and opened the door and slid into the seat as Dean brought the big, powerful engine to life. There was something his brother was keeping from him and he wanted to get to the bottom of what that was.

 


	4. Supply Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam does a little digging into the disappearance of Lana and Dean is wrapped up in this one case.

Dean couldn't wait for the opportunity to do a supply run. It was his time to himself, a time to detox from a hunt. And this one was proving to be a bitch. Since the disappearance of Lana a week ago, him and Sam had come up with nothing.

Lana seemed to have just dropped off the face of the earth, no sign of her anywhere. They tracked down old boyfriends, which proved to be only one. Her mother died when she was just a child and her father was out of the picture. She did have a grandmother, but she was currently in a coma at the local nursing home.

Sam was a little concerned at how wrapped up in this case Dean seemed to be. Other hunts, after a few cold trails, they would give up, but Dean kept on pursuing leads. After a week of now sleep and lousy coffee, Dean needed a serious break.

That break came in the form of a bottle of Scotch and a cheeseburger. The latter he was taking a huge bite of, when a loud guitar riff disturb the silence. Without taking his eyes off the building across the street from him, Dean grabbed the phone next to him on the hood of the car and let out a groan around the huge bite and put the phone to his ear.

“ Hello?” His voice was muffled from the huge wad of meat he was chewing. Grease and mayo slid down his chin and he took the back of his hand and wiped it off. This had to be most satisfying burger he had in a while.

“God Dean,” Sam said with a huff, “Can't you at least swallow that before you answer the phone.”

Dean grabbed the bottle of Scotch and took a huge swig, washing the burger down. “What's up Sammy?” He licked the juices off his finger and sat the bottle next to his thigh.

“Uh..Police are here.” On the other end of the line, Sam pulled back the lemon yellow curtain and noticed the black and white car sitting near the lobby. He watched as a cop got out of the car and walk inside the reception area.

“They for us?” Dean took another bite of his burger and sighed.

“I don't know.”

Dean grabbed a few french fries and stuffed them into his mouth adding to the bigger morsel already in his mouth.“I don't see how. I mean we ditched the plates and the cards.”

Sam peered out the window again to see that the cop car had drove away. He let out a breath. “They're leaving. False alarm.”

“See? Ain't nothing to worry about.”

“What?” Sam scoffed and let the curtain fall and turned to a table that was sitting in the middle of the room. It was covered in books and each one showed the same theme. He walked over to the table and moved some books so he could find the one he was looking for. He picked up a worn, leather bound book that was stuffed to the seams. “So, I think I might have found something in Dad's journal.”

Dean stuffed the last bit of burger into his mouth and wadded up the greasy paper. “Yeah?”

“Get this,” Sam braced the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he flipped to the page. “We're hunting a Dijinn.”

Dean slid off the hood of the _Impala_ and grabbed the bottle of Scotch. “A freakin' genie? So you thinking they can really grant wishes?”

Sam walked to the bed and sat down on the edge, the mattress springs creaked under his weight.”I don't know. I guess they're powerful enough. But they ain't like the ones we are used to. Dad thought they are some type of demon.”

“”My god,” Dean opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.”Barbara Eden was very hot, wasn't she? Way hotter than that Bewitch chick.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. Sometimes he wanted to throttle his brother for his lack of focus. Dean was sharp and alert when on a hunt, but when it came to everyday things, he was a little slow. “Are you even listening to me?”

Dean braced the phone on his shoulder and reached down to his crotch. He shifted in the seat as he adjusted himself and put the key in the ignition. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. So, uh, where do they lair up?”

“Uh,” Sam flipped the page and ran his finger down the writing until he spotted it. “Ruins, usually. The bigger the better..more places to hide.”

Dean looked through the windshield and to the large building across the street. “Uh...I know of a place like that. I'm gonna check it out.”

Sam closed the journal and stood up from the bed. “NO..NO.. Come pick me up first.”

Dean turned the key and the powerful muscle car roared to life. “Naw, I”m sure it's nothing. Let me check it out, if I see something suspicious, I'll call you.” He flipped the phone shut and threw it on the seat next to him.

 

The first sensation that her small body felt, was the pounding in her head that finished into a dull roar. She tried to open her eyes but all she could see was darkness. She panicked thinking she was blind.

A sound to her right made her head snap up and that's when she realized her hands were up above her head, her wrists shackled with an iron band. She followed the rusty chain up to see it was looped around a wooden beam that ran along the ceiling of the room. Her arms were exposed to the dampness and the cold and her small body shivered.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

The steady sound of water hitting the concrete masked the sound she had heard just a second ago. A door slammed somewhere behind her and the room echoed with the steal against concrete.

“He..hello?” She croaked. “Is anyone there? Help me please.” Her ears strained to hear what her eyes couldn't see. She moved her bare feet along the concrete and stood on her tip toes easing the ache in her shoulders.

She heard a sound to her right and it was very close. She slowly turned her head and let out a small cry. A very tall man was coming to her with his hand raised. He was upper body was naked and covered with these strange tattoos. Several piercings covered his face and body and as she watched, he began to glow blue. The hand he was holding towards her emitted a bluish glow. As he placed it on her forehead, she tried to scream. Her head slumped forward as the man took his hand off her and smiled. He ran a long fingernail down her cheek. “Sleep.”

The demon turned his head and cocked it and listened as he heard the door creak open. This was his lucky night, a two for one deal. As he ducked into the shadows, he crouched and waited.

* * *

 

Dean parked the car behind the warehouse, making sure it was out of sight from the main road. The last thing he needed at the moment was a cop on his ass. Him and the law didn't seem to be getting along at the moment and he wasn't thrilled in meeting tonight.

He opened the glove box and leaned over the passenger and took the flashlight that was tucked next to several maps.

He walked around to the front of the building, trying to find where the entrance was located. After walking around for some time, Dean finally found it, covered with several tree branches. He cleared them away and pushed the door open and flinched when it creaked.

While he was holding the flashlight, Dean reached into the depths of his jacket and slid out his colt. With quiet boot steps, he began to walk through what appeared to be once an office. A typewriter lay broken on the floor and several file cabinets were tipped over on their sides. Aside from the dripping of water, all seemed quiet. Maybe he was wrong about this location.

Dean walked through the cavernous warehouse, moving the flashlight back and forth. He turned around and went back the way he came, pausing just outside another room that was packed with storage boxes. As he walked past, he wasn't aware that something was watching him from the shadows.

  
Dean had gone only a few steps when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and noticed several plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling. From the moonlight that was streaming in through the broken window, Dean could see a figure behind the sheet.

He swung his gun to his right and then to his left and made sure it was clear. The hair on the back of his neck began to prickle as he trained his gun ahead of him. He slowly walked to the plastic and took his hand and moved it to the right.

A woman was strung up from the ceiling and her body was limp. Her chin was resting on her chest, her dark hair framing her face from him.

“Shit..” He lowered his gun and tucked it into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. He approached the young woman and smoothed her hair back and slid a finger under her chin. When he lifted her head he let out sigh. “Son of a bitch.” His fingers slid down to her throat and he dipped his head as he tried to find a pulse. It was there, but very slow. Her face was slack and her eyes were half way rolled up into her head. “Lana...” He shook her in the hopes that she would wake up, but their was no response.

Dean was shoved away from her and he stumbled towards the window. The flashlight clattered to the floor as his attacker slammed his hand into the wall. A bald man, with curling blue tattoos all over his body, held him in place.

It kept its stare on Dean as it raised its blue hand and it began to glow blue, as well as its eyes. Dean struggled against his hold as it was placed on his forehead, while the other hand clutched his throat tight. His struggles stopped as Deans eyes rolled up into his head, glowing a bright blue.

 


	5. One More Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lana wakes up to find a shocking secret

_Last night I had a crazy dream_

_A wish was granted just for me_

_It could be for anything_

_I didn't ask for money_

_Or a mansion in Malibu_

_I simply wished, for one more day with you_

 

[One More Day-Diamond Rio](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TuE1XJ_uqOs)

 

She came awake instantly, but she didn't move. Her last memory, dream?, was of some tall, bald man with freaky tattoos glowing this bluish color and coming towards her. Her palms slid across the surface under her. She's on a bed and the comforter is so very soft under her finger tips. A gentle, cool breeze wafted across the room and lightly caressed her skin, making goosebumps erupt over her light tan skin. Carried along in the draft, was the scent of something sweet and sour. A smile came over her lips as she recognized that scent and her eyes fluttered open to see where she was.

The room she was in, seemed like a typical bedroom. A cherry oak dresser was placed in the right corner of the room, right next to a door, she assumed was the bathroom. A vanity table was sitting next to it and crammed with all kinds of hair care products and make-up. She rose from the bed and noticed the window was open, the lavender curtains blowing gently with the breeze. A pot of daffodils were placed right on the eves of her window and this was where the smell was coming from.

Had it all been some crazy dream? Did it never happen? Her grandmother wasn't dying in a hospital, that she was really alive? There was only one way to find out, so she slid her legs over the side of the bed. She noticed a pink silk robe was lying across the foot of her bed and as she slid it over her body, she opened the door.

With cat-like grace, Lana quietly moved down the hallway, her fingers tracing a path along the wallpaper. She stopped for a second to admire the design, roses. Her Nana loved roses and was known to have the best garden in Kansas, heck maybe the entire country.

It was a place that Lana had called home. When she was just a little girl, she and her mother were involved in a car accident, where her mother was tragically killed. A drunk driver had been behind the wheel and within in seconds, Lana lost the most important person in her life. The man had been charged with manslaughter and thrown into the slammer. As far as Lana knew, he was still there.

She could have gone to her father, if she even knew who he was. From what she pieced together, he left when he found out about the pregnancy. He just disappeared off the face of the earth, so the state found one more relative that Lana could live with.

Is was then that she had come to live with Sophia, her maternal grandmother. Up until that time, Lana had little contact with Sophia. She would get a birth card every year and tucked inside was a check. Each year the amounts got more insane, the last one in the thousands.

Sophia and Lana had a very rocky relationship at first, Lana being very distant and cold. But when Lana started to blossom into a beautiful young woman, Sophia began to see her granddaughter into a different light. Lana even reminded Sophia of herself at that age and couldn't help but bond with her.

As Lana walked down the steps, she knew which ones to avoid. Third one from the top, Lana over stepped it, her hand on the banister. She ducked behind the beam and noticed a woman standing in the kitchen, her back towards her. She was very thin and had on a pair of tailored made pant and white blouse. Her ashy blonde hair was pulled up into a simple bun. She was at the stove and she could hear the pop and hiss of something frying in the pan. From the delicious smells, it was bacon. OK, so this wasn't a dream. She could smell it cooking, she could smell the coffee as it brewed and she could feel the coldness on her feet. This was real.

As she watched her Nana cook, Lana struggled to remember what the dream had been about, it was starting to get a little fuzzy. “N..Nana?” Lana's voice was a whisper but it seemed so loud in the quiet of the kitchen.

The woman turned around and Lana was able to see how truly stunning this woman was. Her facial features were small, her nose small with a slight upturn of the tip. Her cheekbones were well defined and her mouth was shaped into a bow with red ruby lips. Her navy blue eyes twinkled as her mouth twisted on her mouth, making the lines around her eyes crinkle.

“Well good morning, Alana.” Nana was the only person in the entire world that addressed her as her birth name. But to Lana, it sounded to vanilla. “Are you feeling OK dear, you look a little pale.”

Lana slid out the chair and sat down with a huff. She reached for a piece of fruit that was in front of her. She selected a cantaloupe and answered around the bite. “Yeah. Just a weird dream.” Lana concentrated on the yellow melon in her hand, trying to recall the dream. It was right there, just within grasps. But her mind wasn't letting her get the details.

“What time are you heading into the diner?”

The diner?” Lana scrunched her eyebrows together as she looked at her Nana in confusion.

Sophia let out a sigh and clucked her tongue at her granddaughter. “Honestly Lana. If you're going to stay out all night, how are you going to have a proper day?” She poured some orange juice into a glass and handed it to Lana.

As Lana sipped on her orange juice, her mind opened up and she was flooded with all these memories. “I..I work at your diner?”

“Yes,” Sophia shooed her away from the table. “And you're going to be late!”

Lana jumped up from the table and grabbed a piece of toast, tucked it in her mouth and fished for her keys in her purse. As she walked out of the kitchen, she stopped, turned around and smiled at her Nana. In two quick steps, she slid her arms around the older woman's neck.

Sophia stood there with her arms to her side, stiff, not sure what to do. This was the first time that Lana had shown any kind of affection for her. “Alana, what has gotten into you child?”

Lana laughed and kissed her on the cheek. “I'll see you this afternoon.”

 

 

The diner in question was a hopping little dive just on the outskirts of town. The breakfast shift turned out to be the busiest and Lana had a hard time keeping up. She got orders wrong, she was slow getting checks to the customers and she had Mike, the cook yelling at her.

“What did you get kidnap by aliens or something honey?” The raspy voice of the other waitress greeted Lana by the coffee station. The owner of the voice was no surprise. She was a plump older lady, hair bleached so much it was white and frizzy. Martha Jones took a plump hand and smoothed a strand over her forehead. “You OK?”

“I'm fine,” Lana let out a huff.

“OH..my god..you have to check out newbie at table one,” a young girl with red hair smiled as she ducked into the coffee station, gathering Lana and Martha to her side. “No..don't look!”

Lana was just in the process of looking at table one, when Kandi Miller scolded her. “Kandi, how in the hell am I supposed to check him out then?”

Kandi laughed and slid her ticket book into the front pocket of Lana's. “I'm on break, so, he's all yours.”

Lana let out a sigh as she took the pot and walked around the bar and straight up to table number one. It was just like her co-workers to try and set her up with every new meat that walked through that door. But, today was different. Instead of the local cowboy, macho wanna be, little men, sat a very ruggedly handsome man.

He was looking out the window, his eyebrows were knitted together and his finger slowly moved back and forth on his upper lip. He looked as if he was trying to solve the world's toughest problem.

“Coffee?”

He turned his head from the window and looked at the waitress that was standing before him. A slow smile spread across his face making his green eyes shine. “Well..I sure hope so.” He reached for his cup and turned it over and watched as she poured the hot liquid to the brim. “Thank you.”

“So, handsome,” Lana winked at him as she slid out the ticket book from her apron. “What can I get you?” As she waited for his answer, Lana was filled with this feeling as if she knew him from some where. Like this particular scene had played out sometime before.

He picked up the cup and smiled. _Man, did he have a sexy ass smile...and those eyes._ Lana cleared her throat as she concentrated on the pad “Just coffee.”

“You sir, are my easiest customer of the day. If you change your mind, just holler.”

“I sure will..uh..” His eyes slowly left hers and traveled to the front of her shirt where her name tag was located. She wasn't sure, but she was certain there was a look of confusion in those green eyes of his. “Lana.”

“Hey sweetheart!” A nasally voice called from the booth and Lana turned to see the man. She frowned. He had been a thorn in her ass all morning and it was apparent he wasn't happy again. “Are ya just standing there looking pretty, or you working?”

Lana rolled her eyes and walked up to the counter where the man slid his plate towards her. “What can I do for you sir?”

“Let me ask you a question and I'm gonna ask it real slow, so you get my meaning. You do know the difference between real eggs and powdered ones, right?”

“I want you to know that I did three weeks in a Korean POW camp and they fed us better than this crap.”

Lana sighed and took the plate from him and glared at the man. He was a disgusting pig of a man. His three chins and his neck seemed to merge into one huge bubble and she wondered when the last time he turned down a good meal. “I'm sorry sir.”

He turned and pointed a sausage of a finger in her face, toast dribbled on his chin as he talked. “Next time, don't get smart with me , sweetheart. Your brains aren't your best feature.”

_Smack!_

Lana jumped when she felt the smack on her ass and she just stood there, in shock. She dipped her head and disappearance into the kitchen.

The man chuckled to himself as he took a bloated hand and lifted the coffee cup to his lips, but stopped when he felt something sharp prick his side.

“I understand you're not happy with your meal?” A husky voice breathed into his ear.

The fat man struggled to turn and face who was attacking him, but winced when he felt the prick again. “You work here?”

“No..and just so we are clear, this is pressed into your brachiael artery. It may be dull, but I'm determined.”The man turned his face to see the younger man. The one that had been in the corner booth as he waddled into the diner. “Keep smiling. Once you start to bleed you will loose consciousness in about 15 seconds.”

“Hey, it was just a joke, I meant her no harm.”

“I want you to take out that wallet of yours, open it up and leave a nice fat tip for that pretty lady. The one you've been stepping all over this morning. And you will never step foot into this diner again, got it?”

“Y..yes,” the man stammered feeling sweat pop up along his forehead. He reached into his back pocket as he felt the knife leave his upper arm. He placed several $20s on the table and stumbled out of the bar stool.

Lana stood in disbelief as the handsome young man walked back to his table and sat down, pick up his coffee and continued to drink it. She turned to the cooler behind her, grabbed a plate and fork and walked up to his table.

“You earned this.” She let out a breath as she plopped the pie down onto the table.

“Well, hey, can't say no to a free pie, now can I?” He smiled at her as he stabbed his fork into the pastry goodness and stuffed it in his mouth. “That...Lana..” He sighed around the bites, “Is a damn good pie.”

Lana smiled and leaned in and whispered. “Don t' tell Martha over there, but it's on the house.”

He looked behind her at the plump woman who was watching them. He raised his fork and smiled. “Your secrets safe with me.”

 


	6. How About Some Pie?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean sets off to find out what is going on. Since he woke up that morning, things have been just a little strange. The more he digs, the weirder things will become.

Dean was a little disoriented as he stumbled out of the diner. As he pushed open the double glass door, the bell above his head let out a small jingle, announcing his departure.

He woke up to a woman lying next to him and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what her name was. His head hurt as he sat there, trying to rack his brain on what he had done the night before. All he could come up with, was hunting that Dijinn. He tried to focus on the details but the longer he was awake, the further away the dream seemed. But was it really a dream? It had seemed so real to him. When he had gone downstairs, he was shocked to see bills in his name. The address on them was for Lawrence, Kansas. The place that he had at onetime, called home. Then, he saw the picture on the mantle and he had to get out of that place.

When he saw that waitress in the diner, the way she moved and the way she smiled, Dean felt a strong sense of de ja vu. Like he knew her, somehow.

As he fished his keys out of his pocket, a smile slide to his face as he saw the glossy black paint of the muscle car. It was parked at the end of the lot, the vapor lights of the street lamp casting its hue on the paint, making it sparkle. She had been a gift from his father and Dean lovingly restored her to full glory.

As he had his hand on the handle, he heard a loud guitar riff coming from the pocket of his dark blue shirt. He slid it out to see the number and placed it to his ear. “About damn time dude, I've left like several messages.”

“Dean? What's going on? Are you OK?”

Dean could hear the worry in his little brother's voice and knew he must have been looking for him. He opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. “I don't know..I don't know where I am.”

There was silence on the other end and Dean heard a door shut and when Sam came back on, his voice was quieter. “What's going on?”

Dean cleared his throat and looked over at the photo that was face-up in the leather seat. “Well..uh...the Dijinn. It attacked me.”

“The gin?” Dean could hear the confusion in the young Winchesters voice. Everyone was starting to act a little crazy. “You're drinking gin? What? You run out of scotch?”

Dean let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of the nose as confusing images flashed through his mind and he wasn't able to determine which was real and which was false. “No asshat...the Jinn. The...the monster? Remember? It..it puts its hand on me and I wake up..next to some crazy hot chick.” He paused and glanced around him to make sure he was still alone.

“Who?” Sam chuckled on the other end. “Carmen? OH wait, she was last month, were you able to catch her name this time? Is she the next Mrs. Winchester. That makes what? Four in six months?”

“Sam..”

“You're drunk dean. You're drunk-dialing me again.”

“I'm not drunk!” Dean barked as he slammed his hand on the steering wheel “Quit screwing around.”

“Look, Dean, it's late. All right? Just get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow. OK?”

When he heard the click, Dean clamped the phone shut and tossed it on the seat next to him. He turned the engine over and the powerful car burned rubber on the asphalt as Dean took off from the curb. He took his eyes off the road and felt his throat constrict with emotion.

The  _ Impala  _ slowly drove down the street and he eyed the numbers on the curb. He really didn't need to know the numbers, he knew exactly what house was going to be theirs.

A two story farm house with a huge oak tree at the front, sat at the end of the street. He shut the car off and slowly closed it behind him as he jogged across the street. When he stepped onto the porch, Dean held his breath.

He took his hand and banged on the door and waited for an answer. When a couple of seconds passed and no one answered, he mashed the bell two times for good measure.

The light next to his head snapped on and he heard the locks slid open and then the door slowly creaked open. A woman with long blonde hair peered around the door, her blue eyes puzzled. “Dean?”

Dean felt his breath leave his lungs as he stared at her, trying to understand if she was real. “M..om?” His voice cracked as he was on the verge of tears.

“Dean,” She opened the door a little wider and Dean could see she was wearing a long white night gown. “A..are you OK?”

“I..don't know.”

Mary stepped back and moved her hand inside and gestured for him to come inside. “Well..come inside.”

Dean stepped into the living room as Mary closed the door, unable to tear his eyes off of her. Is she really alive? His brow furrowed as he struggled to remember what brought him here. A life of hunting demons? No, that wasn't right. He owned a mechanic shop and he had a small condo just outside of town.

“I don't believe it.” He walked over to her and hugged her tight as he closed his eyes tightly.

“Honey, you are scaring me..” Dean backed away from her and began to pace the living room. “Now, just tell me what's going on Dean. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“You don't think that wishes can, can really?” He stopped and shook his head. “Forget it.” He walked over to her and pulled her into another hug. “I'm just...uh..happy to see you that's all.” His face scrunched as he struggled to not cry. He cleared his throat. He released his hold on Mary. “You're beautiful.” He chuckled and scratched the back of his head.

Mary smiled at him and placed her hand on his cheek. “You are still my little angel. Now, how 'about some pie?” She smiled and turned from Dean as she walked into the kitchen, her slippers swishing on the tile. Dean closed his eyes and took in the sound, remembering them so very well from his childhood.

He would lay awake at night and hear her slippers as she shuffled between his room and Sammy's. Once, when Sam was 7, he had chicken poxs and all night he heard his mom walk back and forth to his little brothers room.

  
Dean shook his head as he sat down at the table, confusion on his face. No, his mother was killed when Sam was only 6 months old right? He looked up to see Mary walking to the fridge and taking out a carton of milk. If that was the case, then why was he sitting here at this very table eating some pie that tasted very real to him. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes as he shoved a piece of cherry pie into his mouth. Dream or not, this was freakin' awesome.


	7. What a Wonderful World

The crunch of lettuce, the happy contended grunt of pleasure and the sound of the licking of fingers, filled the kitchen.

“Mmmm.... This is the best sandwich ever!” Dean licked the mayo off his fingers and he chewed around a huge bite.

Mary turned from the sink the yellow gloves dripping suds and water to see Dean sitting at the table eating the sandwich. “Thank you.” She turned back to the water and placed a plate in the rack, puzzled at her son's odd behavior.

“I tried to get a hold of Sam early,” Dean paused to take a sip of beer and washed the food down. “Wh..where is he?”

“Oh he'll be here soon.” Mary took off the yellow gloves and placed them in the rack as she turned to look at Dean. “He'll be here soon.”

“Good, dying to see him.” Dean popped the last bit of sandwich into his mouth and sighed and leaned back in his chair.

Mary walked to the table and slowly sat down in the chair across from her son. “Sweetie..I..I. Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled you are ..hanging out here...all of a sudden.” She leaned over and quickly ran her hand over his chin. “But, uh, shouldn't you be at work?”

“Work?” Dean looked up from his empty plate, a puzzled look on his face as he struggled to remember what it was that he did. Then, like the flood gates had burst open, he smiled. “Oh, yeah the garage. I...uh..no..I took the day off.” He slid back his chair and took the plate over to the sink. He looked through the small window that overlooked the front yard. “The lawn looks like it could use some mowing.”

Mary turned in her seat to look at her son again and chuckled. 'You want to mow the lawn?”

“If that's OK?”

“Sure, I was going to have Sam do it when he gets in, but..uh..knock yourself out. You'd think you'd never mowed a lawn in your life.” She walked over to where Dean was standing and kissed the top of his forehead. She pulled back and smiled, a twinkle in her blue eyes. She placed a hand on his jaw. “I like this new you. Let's hope it sticks.”

 

 

Dean looked at the red lawn mower that had been placed next to the garage and he scratched his head. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on his hips. Now what? It's not like he could go in there and ask his mom, because she was already looking at him pretty strangely as it was.

He put his hand on the handle of the lawn mower and that's when he noticed the handle. Feeling like a jack ass, Dean pulled the lever and the mower started up with a chug. He won this round.

He pushed it over to the grass and started to mow, not really accurate with his mission, but it was getting the job done. After 10 minutes, he sat down on the porch, a beer in his hand and a smile on his face. He watched as the neighbors went about their daily lives and he even waved at a guy putting trash in his cans by the curb. The man looked at Dean weirdly and then slowly raised his hand up into a surprised wave.

He saw a flash and he turned towards the street to see a dark blue jeep  _ Wrangler _ come into view and slow down next to the curb. He saw a mass of chestnut hair and a small body hop out of the lifted frame.

Long tan legs, short white skirt and a blue blouse, just the view Dean wanted his afternoon. She had a big box in her hand and she walked along the sidewalk, not even aware of his presence. He took his time to alert her and took a slow sip of his beer. She had stopped when she noticed the black  _ Impala _ parked behind his mom's red four door sedan.

“You can look, just don't touch.”

She let out a small scream and the white box teetered in her hand, almost falling to the ground. She slid her other hand on top and turned to face the voice that came from the steps. “You could have warned me?”

Dean chuckled and got up from the step and walked to her. “Need help with that?” He offered his hand and Lana slid the box into his hands as she eyed him suspiciously.

“You live here?”

“My mom does.”

Lana heard the creak of the screen door and she smiled as Mary walked into the porch, her light green sweater wrapped around her small frame. “Mrs. Winchester! Happy birthday!”

Dean sighed as he followed Lana up the steps. Now he felt like a real jack ass, it was his mother's birthday. Mary smiled and embraced the girl. “Lana, how is your grandmother doing?”

Lana looked at Dean behind her as she stepped inside the house and into the kitchen. “She's doing very well, thank you.” She took the box from Dean's hand and gave him a smile. “This is for you.”

Mary sat the box on the table and opened the lid to see several varieties of cupcakes. “Oh Lana, they are so beautiful. Did you make them?”

“I, uh, did.” She felt eyes on her and she turned to see Dean looking at her from across the kitchen. “I have to go. Nana's by herself. Happy Birthday Mary.” She kissed the woman on the cheek, one last look at Dean and then she was gone.

Dean walked over to the table and took a peek inside the box and selected a cupcake with chocolate frosting. “So..uh..how do you know Lana?”

Mary blanched and looked at her son as he bite into the cupcake. “Have you been drinking again Dean? Seriously?”

“I was just asking..”

“Well don't,” Mary snapped. She let out a sigh and closed the lid on the box. “It's something we don't talk about in this house, got it?” She let out a smile as she heard a car door slam. “That must be Sam and Jessica.”

 

 

 

 

She walked along the row, dead leaves crunched underneath her boot and a bouquet of daffodils were tucked in her hands. Her dark green eyes moved back and forth along the headstones, until she found the one she was looking for. The name had been covered by leaves, so she dropped to her knees and brushed them away and a name appeared.  _ Katherine Alana Lambert. Loving Mother, Daughter. June 25 _ _ th _ _ 1958 died August 10 _ _ th _ _ 1989. _

Lana sniffed and wiped a tear that had fallen onto her cheek and struggled to remember the previous life she thought she once had. But it was quickly slipping away until this was the only memory she remembered. It was hard to face him sitting on that porch step, hard to think of him as the son of that monster.

When her mother had died, it had been Mary who showed up at their door, pleading and crying for them to forgive her. Her Nana had been angry at her at first, sent her away. She had stood inside the house and listened to the heated argument between the two woman. Mary had left in tears and her Nana walked into the house and ordered Lana to never speak the Winchester name under their roof.  


As the years grew on and Lana got a little older, she realized what had happened. Her mother had died because of John Winchester. He had made a choice that ripped her family apart. So when Lana saw Dean sitting on that porch, looking so much like her father, she found it hard to even look at him and be reminded of that day.

She placed the bouquet of flowers on the grave and sighed. She kissed her fingers and then placed them on the grave and bent her head.

 

 


End file.
